


Cloak and Coat and Scarf

by InnerSpectrum



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crack Crossover, Crack Relationships, Crossover, Fluff and Crack, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-20 00:24:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17611913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: Sherlock and John are in New York City when he notices something strange about his coat and scarf on Bleeker Street.





	Cloak and Coat and Scarf

**Author's Note:**

> I fully blame Facebook for this.  
> It started with someone posting this image  
>   
> with the idea "what if the coat and the cloak fell in love?"
> 
> Then came the comments:  
> Person A: I love the idea! <3  
> Person B: me too! And it won't go away!  
> Person A: write a little fic about it? ^^  
> Person B: Hmm.. I'm more a reader than a writer unfortunately
> 
> It was an A&B conversation right? Yet it's Person C (aka me) who gets hit with the crack plot inspiration.

_**Many, many, many, many, many, oh so very many years ago…** _

 

There was nothing.

There was less than nothing, because there has to be a something in order to define a nothing.

Then the very first moment of existence happened.

Then came the very first millisecond, the very first second, the very first minute, hour, day, etc. of time.

And for the very first time there was -  _something_.

And then another _something_.

And then another…

And another…

Eventually two somethings joined together and became _something else._

For over an infinity the two somethings, that were something else, was together. In love, inseparable.

And then the chaos happened…

“I will know you in any place, on any day, in any form! And you will know me!” they screamed as they were pulled apart thread by living thread into the yawing chaos.

“FIND ME!”

**_Now…_ **

 

Sherlock and John were investigating a mysterious murder that lead them to New York City.

However, it was not the only mystery on the genius’ mind.

It first started when they walked by a building on Bleeker Street. Sherlock was moved to stop in front of the building. He did not know it yet, but that was literal. The detective had not moved himself, in fact he had taken a couple of steps forward when he found himself having retreated those steps to stop in front of the building. He looked at the building, the massive wood door and the design of the absolutely gorgeous stained-glass window on its upper level.

He thought he might have seen a flash of something red in a lower window and suddenly felt inexplicably warm in his coat for a moment. He dismissed it as the universe forcing him to take a moment and notice the beauty around him as it seemed wont to do from time to time.

“Sherlock?” John stopped when he had.

“Coming.” He shook his head out of his reverie and went on about the case.

The next morning, he and John awakened to find his coat and scarf on the floor, curled in a soft fetal position. A slight draft coming from under the door moved them. It almost gave them the appearance of breathing. It looked as though coat and scarf had come inside exhausted and fallen asleep on the floor.

 _Oh Holmes, you surely need to finish this case and get out of New York. Your mind is going as crazy as this city to have such flights of fancy._ The genius chided himself as he picked them up, shook them off, and draped then over the arm of a chair.

As it turned out, the boutique hotel where they stayed was a block away from Bleeker Street. Over the next few days he he found himself moved to stop at various places, especially when in front of the Bleeker Street building. Each time he stopped, he felt the pleasant warmth. The last time, he and John chased separate clues, so he was on his own when he found himself stopped yet again in front of the building.

_177a Bleeker Street._

By this time Sherlock was sure at a gut level that it was not him, but the coat that moved. As he waited for his brain to catch up to whatever information the universe was throwing at him, Sherlock knew he saw a flash of red just as a hand grabbed the material and walked away from the window and a drape fell into place. Sherlock made a mental note to look up the history of the building and quickly walked away not wanting to look like a stalker to whomever lived there.

“Sherlock, why on earth did you leave your coat and scarf in the hotel lobby?” John walked into their room with said items over his arms an hour or so later.

“I did no such thing.”  Sherlock stared at his items as John handed the cups of tea he had in his hands to Sherlock and then hung the coat and scarf. “Where did you find them exactly?”

“Sprawled on a chaise by the piano. Someone had it wrapped around this weird red cloak. It kind of looked like your coat held it in a loving embrace.” John joked.

Sherlock looked at the coat and scarf critically as John started to close the closet door.  “No, leave it open. It may go out in a few.”

“You mean _you_ may go out in a few.” John teasingly corrected.

“What? Yes, that.” Sherlock handed John his tea and turned away.

As they poured over clues spread out on the coffee table, they heard a one-sided conversation outside their hotel door.

“This is ridiculous. Why are you leading me here?” A rich baritone voice could be heard.

“No! They are going to think I am crazy.”

“Oh, ha-ha-ha, Mr. Funny Cloak. Let me remind you that you’re the one that practically dragged me here because _you_ did not want to look crazy.”

John immediately looked to Sherlock then to the door. Had anyone asked him he would have all but sworn that it was Sherlock who spoke outside the door. It sounded like the genius when he spoke in his deeper register.

“Fine!”

There was a knock at the door. John stood up to answer when Sherlock saw a slight movement and stopped him.

_When you eliminate the impossible…_

“Go ahead. I think I understand now. Answer it.”

Because Sherlock knew how John can react badly sometimes, he reached out and grabbed the doctor’s hand to still him as his coat and scarf peeked out of the closet door as if unsure.

“Go ahead. You know it is for you. It’s okay to answer it.” Sherlock coaxed.

Sherlock’s coat and scarf levitated out of the closet. Its movement matching that of its owner as it bowed to Sherlock in gratitude.

“Sh-Sh-Sherlock…” John whispered in wide-eye awe.

John was calm only because he realized Sherlock was calm and trusted in the detective if not his own eyes, when in a dramatic swirl, coat and scarf turned and flew to the door to open it.

“You’re not imagining things, John. I see it as well.” Sherlock tightened his hold on John’s hand, more for himself than anything else, “I don’t have all the answers, but I think we soon will.”

A tall, dark-haired man with graying temples and piercing eyes stood at the door - his hand outstretched to knock again - just as it opened.

He looked for all the world like an older, darker, goateed and slightly taller version of Sherlock. Provided Sherlock had dressed like a wizard or mystic. John looked from the man at the door to the navy bespoke, modern suited man that held his hand. The strong grip giving evidence to all the emotion not seen on Sherlock’s otherwise serene face as he stood and buttoned the blazer on said suit.

“I see." said the man at the door as he looked at Sherlock’s coat and scarf with dawning comprehension. He lowered his hand and glanced at his collar. "You know when you pantomimed _lover_ I sincerely thought you were joking.” 

“I am not sincerely sure I know what to think, or if I want this to be an elaborate joke or not.” Sherlock spoke as he saw the movement around his near doppelganger.

A deep red classic high-collared cloak lifted itself from the man's shoulders and raced to Sherlock's coat and scarf just inside the room. It all but tackled Sherlock’s coat and scarf, and for a moment the two were engulfed in the material before the coat's arms stretched out and circled the cloak in a tight embrace.

_They look for all the world like lost lovers finally reunited after a long and arduous separation._

Letting go of John's hand at last, Sherlock did not berate himself this time for the flight of fancy with the evidence in front of him. One  upturned collar caressed the point of the  other's upturned collar - the way one lover would gently caress the cheek of the other - as they floated and slowly spun in place.

Meanwhile, the man entered the room and closed the door.

“Jesus!” John breathed as he stepped forward.

“No, Dr. Stephen Strange.” the man introduced himself, amused, as he stepped around the entwined coat, scarf and cloak to face the two bemused men.

“It looks like we’re in-laws.”

**Author's Note:**

> Muse amuses and bemuses me ...


End file.
